Conclusion and other poems

Aminah Fernando Kunting

Conclusion

Sometimes,
the buzz of the world suffocates.
Sometimes,
I have to focus on simply breathing.
I force myself to feel
the air enter my nose,
visualize it go down my lungs
and feel them expand.

Sometimes,
I have to close my ears.

Most times,
I try to find the peace.
Mostly,
I swallow my pride and anger
and hope people learn what it means to be kind
Mostly,
I grapple at air and old wisdom
trying to remember what sabr means.

But
most often,
I simply shuffle my feet,
and tell myself this is all momentary.

Other times,
I blink
and
everyone is older
then I wonder,
where has all the time gone.

in those times,
I regret this:
“I could have done better”

and yet,
time always seems to catch up
right
before the promise.

Still.
often, lately
for now,
I keep my pace
steady.
I
watch one foot ahead of the other,
walk as steady as I can
to the end.

til before then,
I yield to gratitude.
remember:
I am not
whole,
yet.
and it is
not
the end,
yet.

 

I Dread

When, inevitably, I shall be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
hands, scratched and bruised,
blistered.
still searching under the rubble
for any sound of life.

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
fractured lungs, desperate for air
wheezing
still laughing at little joys
of seeing children alive.

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
battered arms and legs, unable to walk or grasp
immovable
still with a smile to pass, they have fought
to hold their right.

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
disfigured shapes, all just a mass
ignored
still a full life left behind them
always hoping for the truth

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
damaged, scarred, maimed
patient
still seeking to relieve others of their hardship
despite of

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
lips, despite despair
consistently moves: “Hasbunallahu Wa Ni’mal Wakeel – حَسْبُنَا اللَّهُ وَ نِعْمَ الْوَ كِيلُ”
repeating
“Allahu Akbar”. “Allah is sufficient for us.”
Continuously. Relentlessly. Despite of.

If I were to be asked to spell fear;
I will show you Gaza—
because I cannot spell fear
without unearthing and unveiling its true manifestation:
that even in ruins,
with grace and quiet,
will not falter and break in this dunyaa.
that, even in obliteration,
still trust Allah.
despite of.

 

“Abd, Abd”

I keep forgetting
it is not how much I do
nor how much I forgive;
it is not how many
orphans I feed
or the number of
sunnah prayers I pray;
it is not how lacking I have behaved
or how patient I have tried to become;

I keep forgetting
it is not me or my deeds
but
rather,
Allah’s Mercy
Allah’s Greatness
Allah’s forgiveness

that keeps me
here,
still.

The flower opens quietly
its petals ruffle slightly
as the wind blows

the stem stands firm
and rooted to the ground
irrespective of where the head sways.

 

Rami Kanso’s Kiss of Freedom (2023)